The Battlefield
by sahdah
Summary: A SMUT bridge piece exploring what happened when Cassie stood up on the interstate facing her Silencer and when she woke up in the farm house. EvanxCassie /J392tBAm-xI visual reference -
1. Chapter 1

"A moment comes in war when the last line must be crossed. The line that separates what you hold dear from what total war demands. If he couldn't cross that line, the battle was over, and he was lost.

His heart, the war.

Her face, the battlefield.

With a cry only he could hear, the hunter turned. And ran."  
― **Rick Yancey** , **The 5th Wave**

* * *

"'Here I am! Come and get me, you son of a bitch!'"

When the first wave powered off the planet the silence became too much for the humans that had been left behind. They were used to the sound of their own trivial pursuits in their meaningless existence. It had drowned out the very voice of nature. Therefore in times like these as the snow started to fall, the millions of flakes falling, on the wreckage left of humanity, was almost deafening in the void. The snow was piling and drifting on the graveyard of abandoned cars on the deserted interstate. Bright white flakes fell softly and steadily, slowly minute after minute, erasing the ugliness left of the human wasteland.

As the storm began, the young man set out to find her. _Her,_ the one who had made him turn tail and run. He hadn't finished her off, he couldn't, and the battle had been lost. There had been no other option for him, he turned and ran like a human coward. He had abandoned everything he had left, his people, for what?

He made it three miles before he stopped. It was not a matter of physical exhaustion, on the contrary the arrays kept him going without need for rest, at least not in this moment. What was he doing? Running away like a frightened child because she challenged him? Because she refused to go down, because he didn't have the heart to do what he needed to do, he let her go? The guttural yell was involuntary. It took three miles for heart to win out over reason and the arrays.

Stay or run, it didn't matter he had condemned her to die. She had been too far away to hear a scream but the way her body crumpled to the ground would stay with him.

 _Cassiopeia…_

In his mind he watched her get up, she had shot off her gun. All of her shots were erratic as she blindly shot in the general direction she assumed her assailant was in. None came within range. He watched her…surprised? Amused? Through the scope of the high powered rifle, what was she doing here? She had crawled under the car. She had to know there was no escape. And yet…and yet, she had crawled out of the car. Stood up…and faced me. Faced death, with fear crystalized will. It was vulnerability, courage, and bravery.

What had he done?

A burst of bark exploded from the tree where he punched it. There was nothing for it as his own resolution crystalized, he shouldered the high powered rifle and took off running back in the direction he had come from.

He arrived back at his vantage point in just under twenty minutes. She was gone. _Of course she's gone!_ What was he thinking that she would wait for him there? The arrays indicated the area was clear, the snow had begun to fall as he made it back, now as he made his way down to his missed shot it was falling in earnest.

In the median he found the bodies of the ones he had taken before she showed up. Before metal had wielded bone and his silver thread had been linked. The evidence of his failed shot was tinging the new fallen snow a coppery brown. The pain alone should have overwhelmed her and kept her down. Yet she found the strength to pull herself under the Buick. He turned to the vehicle, _wait,_ his attention was pulling at the site of her shot and then he saw it, the M16. It was hers. She had etched her initials into the side. How like her, he checked it, unloaded the live round, replaced the bullet in the magazine, activated the safety, shouldered it and went to the car.

The size of the blood pool he found beneath the car would have made him sick to his stomach, but the arrays prevented that. How had she found the strength to stand up? His emotions were at war. She was alive. The area was clear, for one, but for how much longer? The storm was intensifying. In a few more minutes it would eradicate any signs of her next move.

Slowly he began circling away from the car. At last he spotted it, the blood trail. Following it a few steps more he looked up out over the horizon, knowing what lay ahead. _Why are you going that way Cassie?_ It was the direction of the base. After all this time she was still looking for the brother, it had to be the reason. Where was she? She was exhausted, injured, bleeding, she had no chance at all. At most she had an hour head start. Silently he followed in pursuit of her blood trail.

As he walked he remembered a time before the arrays took away all physical discomforts. The family that had raised him was still alive before his awakening had showed him what he really was. It was a warm autumn day. His younger brother was playing jumping hay stacks, something he usually did with Evan. Evan was working on a motor in the barn, so the brother was alone.

No one knew exactly what had happened but the young boy missed his jump and fell exactly wrong. His leg had broken below the knee. The sound was ear shattering, the wail of a dying coyote it would seem. Being in the barn, being young and fast he was the first one to the child. It was a revolting sight, the bone protruded from the skin in the most gruesome angle out the front of the leg. His stomach had dropped he was choking back bile. He remembered the look on his brother's face, anguish and terror. "Evan, am I going to die?" For the brother he had to find strength to do what had to be done.

Holding the boy's ashen face he said "No." His brother's face relaxed upon hearing the words and the light brown eyes rolled to the back of his head as he passed out from shock. Evan scooped up the body carefully and carried him two hundred feet to the farm house where his mother was waiting.

On the interstate, he stopped. As he had wondered through the memories the arrays picked up on the subtle change on this vehicle. The windows were frosted but from the inside and the back hatch was cracked just a hair. Something was inside.

The heart beats were even and steady, you could have set a clock to it. The rest of him was wound tight like the strings of an instrument. He opened the back end of the SUV like an animal trainer opening the tiger's cage. He immediately processed the smell of infection and blood. He was confronted by the Bear.

 _How could you do this to her?_ The Bear stared accusingly at the Silencer.

He had waited too long.


	2. Chapter 2

For it being a stuffed inanimate object, the bear's accusing stare gave him a wave of guilt. Guilt because he knew a lot about Bear having read her diary when she was out scavenging for food.

"You wouldn't understand Bear." Almost as he was saying it he felt foolish, but the bear seemed to say _Try me._

The young man ignored the judgement and stuffed the bear unceremoniously into her overstuffed back pack. He then slung that over his shoulders re-slung the rifles and scooped up the unconscious girl into his arms. The arrays detected infection from the wound, if he had waited much longer septicemia would set in, as it was it would be a gamble to save her leg.

As he made his way back to the farm house he kept her close making observations. Her body was light, lighter than he had imagined when he had first seen her. The color of her hair in the sunlight those times he had spent observing her, was of spun gold. Now however it was matted to her head and dull. How could he have done this? Reduced her to this?

Carefully he cradled her close to his body shielding her from the cold and wind. He walked on urgently not for fear; there was nothing in this sector that was any cause for his concern. It was for her sake, he didn't want her to suffer more than what he had already put her through.

The walk was uneventful save for the driving wind and snow of the storm. He focused on her breathing and heartrate, _Cassie…you are perfectly safe_ was his only thought.The storm intensified as the darkness fell, it did not matter. He was the perfect predator, the heightened senses guiding him leading him home.

At long last the farmhouse came into view through the gloom. Had time still held relevance it might have been after midnight, but it did not matter, it was a thing from the human world now past. He carried her and laid her on the couch in front of the fire place. The worn quit his mother had made as a boy was draped over her chair he retrieved it and wrapped her while he kindled a fire in the hearth.

When he was satisfied she was warm he went to the kitchen and filled the large pots where he heated up water for his baths. Those were set on the stove to boil. The suture and first aid kit was retrieved from his father's office as was the remainder of the saline drips, penicillin, bandages, and the drip stand. All of this was taken to the upstairs bedroom.

The acrid smell of sulfur tickled his nose as the match burst into an island of light in the dark room. The kerosene soaked wick lit immediately spreading warmth through the simple room. It was not a place in which he lingered much after his sister had passed of the Red Plague. Crossing the room to the dresser he pulled out a simple white nightgown that had belong to his sister and laid it on the bed. Then he spread out an old quilt on the side.

Crossing the hall he pulled two towels, from the linen closet, they still smelled faintly of fall sunshine. He filled the tub partially, the water very cold to the touch and proceeded back down to the kitchen to check on the pots. They were not yet boiling.

He went back to the living room shouldered the back pack and picked the girl up carefully. There had been no change in her position. In the room he laid her gently on the old quilt. The back pack was set next to the bed. A portion of the bear was sticking out, he felt bad for how he had treated it earlier, crazy to think that way. Wasting precious time he took the bear out, dusted him off and set him on the chair facing the bed. Somehow it felt more appropriate to have a chaperone that might speak on his behalf to attest that he did not have nefarious intentions.

"I know you don't know me," he spoke to it with his back turned, "but I'm here to help."

It was probably a trick of the echoes of whatever humanity was left when he assimilated Evan Walker, but he felt the bear's eyes watching him almost as if he knew his dark secret. _Like you helped her when you shot her?_

The bear had no way of knowing that he was the one that had cared for his family since the death of their parents during the third wave and for his brothers and sisters as they slowly perished of the Red Plague. His sister had been the last to go…after Lauren had hanged herself. And now Cassie was here and dying all because of his orders.

There was hair matted to her forehead, now that she was inside from the cold her body was running a high fever. Walking through the cold he hadn't put much thought in her body temperature, he should have known better. He brushed the sweat matted hair and touched his lips gingerly to her temple, the fever was over 103. In the side table there were scissors, he retrieved them and began to cut Cassie out of her clothes after removing her boots. Those he set at the foot of the bed.

The pants were crusted and matted with blood. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, guilt. The arrays had no answer for that. He cut around the tourniquet and left her under clothes in place. Wrapping the quilt around her he carried her into the bathroom. He had lit a few more lamps in the bathroom.

Carefully he placed her on the tub mat on the floor wrapping the blanket securely and propping her leg up. He ran down the stairs retrieving both large pots of boiling water grateful for the bucket handles. Running up the stairs was out of the question but he still came up faster than humanly possible. One pot went straight into the tub bringing the temperature just above tepid. The second he set next to the ravaged knee and got up to retrieve the suture kit from the room.

After washing his hands and donning the medical gloves he took a wash cloth and soaked it in the hot water and started cleaning around the wound. The skin was red and inflamed. After he cleaned off all the dried blood and dirt from the area he let out a sigh of relief and thanked whatever entity in the galaxy had made him err his shot so terribly.

A laugh escaped him, knowing that he himself was the reason she was still alive, he had shot it is true, but even in that instance corrected enough that the shot had missed bone and the femoral artery. It might have been nicked as the bullet exited her thigh but if he had truly hit it she would have bled out under that Buick, no tourniquet would have saved her or enabled her to make it to the SUV he had found her in. He thought…but pushed the thought aside, if she was like him she would not be Cassiopeia, humanities last hope. She would be _Other_ , like him, and that was unbearable thought even if it meant her life would be saved.

 _I'm sorry Cassie,_ he thought, there was nothing for it, gritting his teeth for her, he poured hydrogen peroxide over the front and back of wounds, using the suture kit he stitched her up. He checked the water in the tub, it was well below tepid now but her body was still in fever mode, if anything it would help cool her body down. Picking her up he set her so that her head was tilted up on the edge of the tub he hair hanging down in matted clumps.

The knee was propped up above the water line. He drained some water to be sure. He was not about to take the tourniquet off until he had finished. Even so, blood ran down her leg tinging the water a faint pink. He rinsed out the washcloth he had used earlier and set to cleaning her body as quickly and gently as possible. There was no time for salacious thoughts. It was the act of a care taker with their charge, a brother caring for his dying sister, a father caring for a daughter, a son caring for an ailing mother, an alien caring for a wounded human.

Her body bore the signs of hard living. Various scars on the palms of her hands, the fact she bit her nails, various bites from living in nature. She was a warrior, a glance down to the knee, physical manifestation of a different sort of battle. And yet it was her heart that bore the most scars, he recalled the nights she cried herself to sleep wondering if she was the last one left.

 _No,_ he thought, _not the last one._

He finished the task of cleaning her body, checking the obvious places for any insects but it had been cold enough even the ticks had died weeks ago. As he wiped her face clean he studied her features, much more detail then when he had through the scope. With her eyes closed she posed so little threat to him, his heart ached, would those eyes open again? He knew they would, but would they ever forgive the monster who had put her in the situation to begin with. There was a longing to see the soul which had caused him to abandon his people.

His thumbs felt the warmth and softness of her lips as he held her face in his hands. It was almost as if she was drawing him to her, her own gravitational pull on his heart. And he became aware of the ache and need he long ago felt only Lauren could satisfy. He looked away and inevitably looked out of the door across the hall only to see the bear.

 _I'm always watching._

 _Creepy bear,_ he thought.

 _Speak for yourself, Silencer._

Shaking his head he set back to the task at hand, retrieving the comb and detangling spray from his sister's drawer. Adding more tepid water to the now cool to the touch water in the tub. He quickly picked out any leaves and twigs that were caught in her hair during her hideout under the car.

Spraying the solution generously over the mats he grabbed the whole of her hair and started from the tips working his way back to the scalp with short strokes as his sister had instructed time and time again. When he could run the comb from the scalp to the bottom he set the empty bucket under her hair and retrieved the cup he used with his sister, he poured enough so that he could lather her hair with the shampoo. The room smelled faintly now of lilacs and spring, it clashed with the howling of the wind outside.

Rinsing the lather carefully he repeated the process with the conditioner, he smiled as he recalled arguing with his sister about the silliness of adding more to the hair after it was already clean, but he always gave her what she wanted. His sister was the last bright spot in his lonely existence, until now. After the conditioner was rinsed into the bucket below and he squeezed the excess water out he took the extra towel and wrapped it around her head securely.

Again he lifted her out of the tub and wrapped the bath towel around her body. The fever had withdrawn temporarily. After he laid her on the quilt he found the syringe, measured out a dosage of penicillin and administered it. He then put compression bandages on the two sutured wounds wrapped gauze tightly around that and then another heavier bandage applying pressure. Elevating the knee he then cut away the tourniquet carefully.

Satisfied that the bandage was well in place he grabbed the lotion and night gown. When he was done he unwrapped the towel around her head spilling out her golden hair, he worked the nightgown over her head and then undid the clasp of her wet bra using the nightgown to preserve her modesty. Somehow he knew she would probably kill him before believing he was doing all this with good intentions.

He worked her hands into the sleeves and repeated the process when he got to her wet panties in a bid to not disturb the wrap he had just created he used the scissors under the nightgown pulling the panties away from her hip bones and cutting the cloth away as if it were a diaper. She was going to be angry. He couldn't help the smile, _Ben Parish, you idiot_.

Slowly he worked the quilt out from under her body being especially careful working around her knee. The skin above it was starting to turn red after being purple due to the constraint, the skin would be sore and there was going to be bruising. There had been no signs of septic flesh and for that he was grateful. Now it would be a matter of time.

The Silencer folded the clean sheets and blankets over her body leaving the knee exposed on the edge of the bed but making sure her feet were covered. Gently he worked her hair from under her neck and back, it was still damp and now the pillow was damp. He flipped it over to the dry side and brushed her hair out and over the back of the pillow. It gave her the effect of having a halo, perhaps not an angelic sort of beauty, more of a fierce avenging angel sort of beauty. The bear watched with silent approval.

Now he would wait.

 _A/N: Yes in the book he shoots her in the knee and it melds with the bone. And she would have died, with a high powered rifle shot like that it would most likely have damaged her femoral artery and Cassie would have bled out. That being said I was curious about the time between Evan running away and Cassie waking up. Since the rest of the story is written not sure if I will add to this._

 _Sah-dah_


	3. Chapter 3

The silence was broken up by the soft breathing coming from the other room. His brain seemed to hum listening to it. There was no strain on his senses the arrays saw to that. Apart from that there were the creaks and small groans of the house, further outside the ones from the barn. The wild life was hunkered down keeping safe from the storm.

Only now after everything had happened had Evan allowed himself to feel the weight of his exhaustion. The stress was leaving his body slowly; it was more complicated than that. The stress of finding her was gone. Only to be replaced with the stress of how long it would take her to wake up. How was she going to react to what had been a violation of her personal space.

After dressing her wounds and tucking her into the bed he had cleaned up the room and then cleaned up the bathroom. One could say out of boredom but more than anything it was a sense of duty, a way of honoring his family, his mother especially.

 _A place for everything and everything in its place,_ his mother would always say.

When the bathroom was cleaned he moved to the kitchen and washed the items he had used. Straightened that up and ate his meal, a simple sandwich, he wasn't that hungry. However going through the supplies he realized his bread was running low. Quietly, which was the way he did everything, he gathered the items he would need to make the next batch of bread. Looking up to the ceiling in the direction of his sister's room he decided on a different recipe.

After everything was mixed and the oven, grateful his parents had kept his grandmothers wood burning stove out of misplaced nostalgia, was heating. He set the bread covered with a tea towel on the countertop next to the warm oven to rise. Again he cleaned up the area with scrupulous attention to detail.

While he worked he thought about the girl upstairs. Lauren was taller and perhaps had finer features but Cassie had a fire in her, call it the will to survive and do what was needed to be done and that gave her petite frame a fierce edge, a different sort of beauty.

As he molded the individual rolls with his hands he thought of the feel of her body. The smell of lilacs had seeped into his clothing as he had moved her from one place to the next there was even the powder smell of the lotion but even below all that there was her own scent and it was making it harder to concentrate on the task at hand.

At last the last of the rolls was in place. He lightly coated his hands with oil and patted each roll then left them to rise a little longer. On the stairs he warred with his thoughts, he was only checking on her because she had been shot, the room was probably cold, what if she was awake and needed him. Pausing at the door he listened. Then he walked in.

Her scent filled the air and it made his body tingle, in that hair raising way when you walk too close to a live wire, or as the hum of electricity. He watched for a moment her chest rising and falling with her even breathing. His jaw clenched as he remembered the feel of her body in his hands. The hairs on the nape of his neck tingled, he turned around.

The glass eyes of the bear were fixed more on Cassie's position. _I was leaving,_ he thought to himself.

 _I bet you were…_

The thought from the bear trailed him. No wonder she had kept the damned thing, it was almost like having a companion, even if it was a tad judgmental, damned Bear.

At long last the bread was finished and he climbed the stairs once more, stopped to listen at the door and continued down the hall to his own bed room. Inside with the door closed he unbuttoned his flannel button up, folded the cloth in half and draped it over the back of the chair. He took off his boots sliding them under the chair and unbuttoned his jeans pulling them halfway down his legs before balancing on one foot working the other one out of the denim material and repeating the process for the other side, folding the garment and placing that in the seat of the chair.

There were no physical markings of any kind on his physique. The arrays managed that, if he were to ever nick himself with a razor, there would be no signs left to tell the tale. The twelve systems constantly repaired and recycled cells. He eyed his physical appearance in the long mirror next to the chair, it had been his mother's mirror, and vaguely wondered what Cassie might think of his physical form.

Lauren and he had been together since they were children but as they grew older and into their bodies and the feelings they had for one another, it hadn't been lost on him how she would react when other girls, especially girls she considered more attractive than herself, would notice him. In time as she realized he wasn't going anywhere this behavior of hers became more relaxed but he would catch her with smug smiles, if he held her in his arms and kissed the top of her head when others were around. Especially with other women, it amused him, then. Now, he was curious to see if Cassie might respond the same way to the visual stimuli.

He walked away from the mirror and into his bed. It wasn't hard to miss how his own body reacting to the stimulus that her name invoked. Cassiopeia

Closing his eyes his mind was assaulted by the face of the woman in question, in perfect detail. As if during his time with her all his mind did was absorbed and file away her image. From the first times he had snuck into her tent, all the times he had followed her movements through the scope on the rifle, and all the new detailed information he had been given up close earlier in the evening. It was infinitely more difficult now since there was a tactile element to the memories, the feel of the heat of her skin, the softness, the accents of the various scars, and the tight feel of the muscles. She looked so small, he wondered what it had been about her that caused him to run away, those were his thoughts as he studied the light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Their only other intimate acquaintance had been through the long range scope.

He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, it was her eyes. That, perhaps, and the combination of knowing what was in her soul having read through her journal when she left her camp unattended. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding he shifted his body uncomfortably. He had other tactile memories that were assaulting his senses, Lauren and one other, the thought of which almost helped out his current predicament. That one time had been out of loneliness when he had been awoken only to find himself in a position of knowing everything you had lived was a lie, your very existence was _other_.

To wake up and know that you were the only one of what you were lost in a sea of mundane humans going about their daily lives, underwhelming existence unaware of the plight of one lost among many. He couldn't bear it. It was not a life he would have chosen for Cassie. She was one out of none, he was none among many. Then he had been led to _Grace_. As _other_ as he was. She had come to him and it was only that once…this lifetime anyway. He pushed the unwanted thought from his mind.

The wind continued its torment of the trees outside. Crying out its loneliness and Evan sympathized closing his eyes and letting the sound wash over him.

…

He knocked on the door once and went in. The room was bathed in a soft glow from the lamp on the bedside table. She had her back to him. He walked to her wrapping his arms around her frame trying to protect her from everything that might be coming.

Closing his eyes he breathed in her scent setting off a dull ache in his groin that made him grip her more tightly to his body. He buried his face in her neck her scent intoxicating him. Unconsciously he realized all at once he was rocking his hips into hers as he held her hips firmly in his hands. The sigh he heard escape her further fueled his need and desire. The pulse in her neck was quickening.

He held back for a moment and she turned in his arms sat on the bed and scooted her whole body up onto the bed out of his reach. Her eyes held his as he climbed on to join her. Something about her gaze made him ask, "Is this ok?" What would he do if she said no? He would respect her of course but he didn't want to push her into something she wasn't ready for.

His body tensed holding the rigid position he was in, waiting for her to release him. The lips he was so intently focused on parted ever so slightly as she nodded her head and breathed "yes."

It was as if a spring loaded trap had been released and yet he maintained his rigid position taking her in. She looked so young, so innocent in the cotton nightgown, her golden hair in a wavy halo around her shoulders. He could sense her arousal through the arrays, feeling the heat radiating from between her legs, at her breasts making the night gown pucker, and at her mouth the flush tinting her lips and cheeks giving her an ethereal glow.

The tightness in his own boxers was becoming frustrating, quickly he adjusted himself. His own needs would be satisfied in due time for now he wanted to explore the stars before him. He started at her feet running the palms of his hands slowly up her ankles to her knees. His heart clenched as he reached the bandage, fate, he thought as he slowly put his lips to the skin that wasn't bandaged. Gently he moved on running his hands under the night gown up her thighs. Noting everything her body had to offer him. Kissing slowly up the thigh as his hands massaged her hips wrapping around to her back and then pulling her to him he kissed her deeply. Her sharp intake of breath sent a wave of electricity through him, she had not been expecting that, her body had tensed and then relaxed almost immediately as she reflexively buried her hands in his hair with a small contented moan and her hips started rocking in time with his own motion. Pausing he pushed up the nightgown and she wiggled herself out of the garment, he surveyed her figure in the glow of the lamp, his erection uncomfortable from where he'd tucked it into the elastic of his shorts.

He groaned when he pressed himself to her to kiss her. He had not been anticipating the need in which she returned his kiss, adding to his pleasure and his discomfort. She tugged on his lower lip gently with her teeth and then his tongue was exploring her mouth she was his equal, holding his head tightly with both her hands gripping his hair and then moving to his chest, he felt his heart beat against her palms, if steady only so because of the twelve systems. When her arms returned to his hair and she wrapped her legs around his torso, he gripped her with one hand got off the bed pulled the sheets and blanket back with the free arm and sat back down on the edge, feeling her moisture through the offending fabric of his boxers, which reminded him, he stood up once more and managed to slide them off while not losing grip on his prize.

This time he laid her back in her original position, lowering himself to kiss her, maintaining eye contact with her blue eyes. "If you want me to stop"- She didn't let him finish as she put a finger on his lips to silence him, with that he opened the drawer and slipped a small packet into her hand. He saw her eyes dart down, and her face turn pink, as her eyes came back to his. "When you're ready," was what he said by way of explanation. Cassie nodded.

Back on the bed he started a hot trail of kisses from her neck working his way back to his original destination. At her breasts he took her nipple into his mouth again the sound of her surprise, the subtle tensing then the way her body relaxed was a drug to him he had yet to know he was missing. He teased the hardened nub with his teeth watching her. His free hand was teasing the soft hair of her mound warmed by the heat radiating there. The outside was moist with her arousal. He felt her body as he brought the hand back to where his mouth was still teasing her nipple.

She rocked her hips against his erection and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Wetting his finger he rimmed her entrance, smirking as her eyes opened to the new sensation and she found him staring at her amused. Then it was his turn to be shocked as gripped his cock firmly in her hand, her own smug expression mirroring his from moments before. To even the score he inserted his finger in her wet entrance. Her gasp mirrored his as her muscles clenched and unclenched, she matched his rhythm and he crushed his mouth to hers leaving them both breathless in a few moments.

Her hands raked his back and hips as she wrapped her legs around him pulling him in closer. He stopped just short of his prize and was amused by the fierceness of her glare when she realized he wasn't coming closer. Slowly he shook his head and chuckled when it dawned on her hand frantically grasped for the foil packet and handed it to him. His eye brow came up on its own questioning her meaning, noting her cheeks blushing once again. "I've ne… I …um…" Stuttering as she tried to explain and failed.

"You've never put a condom on?"  
Frantic head shake.

"I see." He took it from her and deftly applied the barrier, he didn't want it but Evan being and not being many things, he wasn't irresponsible. She watched with wide eyes as he lowered himself. "Are you ready?" He whispered kissing her neck, feeling her nod and whisper again the word that sent shivers through him, "yes."

He moved to her opening with his mouth one last time and the back to her positioning himself at her opening having to improvise with lubrication.

"Cassie, look at me." He said it softly, as her eyes locked with his, he penetrated her.

The intimacy of her soul and the tightness of her clenching nearly sent him over the edge but he held still allowing her time to adjust to his size, her eyes wide, not with fear or pain but with the intoxication of the moment. Slowly as before he felt her body relax into him again that nearly taking him over the edge, but he wasn't going to end before he started.

His mouth found hers, exploring this part of her body, he held her face in his hands and brushed a stray hair from her forehead. He kissed her neck and felt her beginning to rock her hips in time with their motion, he matched her pace, feeling her throb as their rhythm increased catching the wave that would take them over the edge. They both were breathing ragged, perspiration heightening the movement making it easier their bodies were in their own sync. He could sense the end was near for him for her she was shaking her body shuddering in its first wave, followed by another, and another, and another sending him crashing with her on the next. Spent

They lay there intertwined pulsing as he physically came down from the stars she had taken him to. Gradually her breathing became even and when he was sure she was asleep he kissed her once more and wrapped the blanket securely around her, he kissed her softly on the lips and got up to go to the restroom.

Absentmindedly he removed the condom and then relieved himself. It wasn't until he was washing his hands that he got a shock, where had the blood come from? And then almost immediately he chastised himself, it had been her first time.

 _Are you sure about that Evan?_

He looked up to see Lauren hanging in the shower. Eyes milky white glass dead, unlike the bear.

 _Sure you didn't feel a punch in your heart for your precious Cassie…_

He turned; there was nothing yet the blood felt frozen in his veins.

" _You killed her. Shot her like the worthless human she is, bravo, although I don't understand you banging her, ewwh, human."_

Evan wheeled to the door, nothing. In the mirror however Grace was putting her rifle together.

 _"No, I don't need to. Remember Evan, you've taken care of it." Grace was laughin, "You killed her."_

 _"She's right, you know, even though I hate her for what you both did. You were supposed to love me forever."_

Evan ran from the bathroom to the bedroom. His heart skipped when he saw Cassie. She was in a pool of her own blood. He looked to the knee, there was no bandage, he looked back to her face, there was a dime sized black hole staring at him from her forehead, her eyes were open reflecting the stars above.

He was looking at her freckled through the long range scope, the sound of the rifle blast rocked him, in the distance Cassie, short not for Cassandra or Cassidy, Cassie for Cassiopeia crumpled to the ground, blood exploding around her soaking the back pack severing the silver strand connecting her to him. A hand descended on his shoulder. Evan spun around.

"Well done soldier, " Vosch applauding his kill. "Son, no need to worry, she was only human."

He dropped the rifle, what had he done?

 _What you needed to do…_

Evan bolted upright in his bed throwing off the sheets and pillows which had tangled him. His heart was hammering in his chest. _What the fuck…_

Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes he used the arrays to listen and he latched onto the sound of the breathing, it had changed.

The morning light was streaming in through the South window meaning the storm had blown itself out. He got up and dressed quickly as he did snippets of his dream returned and made his chest ache as though he had lost something precious.

He stood silently at the door. Waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

He moved away from the door, there had been no change to her condition. He had changed out the saline drip and the bed pan. And moved the bear to the pillow beside her in the bed. Would she even make it? He had waited too long. Her spirit was strong, he reasoned, she had wondered further than he anticipated she would. It was only the third day.

At the bottom of the stairs he looked out over the yard. Due to the storm passing the drones would be going out again soon. Now was as good a time as any for there to be movement in his sector. He donned his full body hunting camo gear, no need to make the arrays work harder at keeping his body alive and protected than need be. The weather was hovering in the 20's.

It was a tiresome day. At a distance of five miles from the farm house he saw his first target. Squaring the shoulders and taking slow breath his shot left the rifle as he exhaled. The sound although muffled still shattered the silence. He walked away in an arching path to reach his next destination, his tree stand.

Only after climbing fifteen feet up into the tree and taking up his station did he let his thoughts go back to her. Part of coming out today was to be sure he could still do what he had been ordered to do. What needed to be done. Finishing the man had been little less troubling than waiting for the deer now. So why was she different?

Was it because her silent plea of being the last human on earth had reached his core the way his awakening had changed him forever? She had touched a nerve in his humanity, the thing he still fought against after the four years since his awakening. It had been the first real thing he'd felt in such a long time. It would be hard to give that up. She could be dead when he got back to the house, freeing him from the binding silver chain that had linked him in the first place.

The woods were silent except for the crashing of squirrels as some of them moved around. After the hum had left and the human noise was slowly stifled other noises seemed to be competing to take the place or maybe it was easier to distinguish now. Leaves falling hit the ground with an alarming loud rustle, almost the sound his father made when he was shaking out the Sunday paper. The squirrels were by far the noisiest rodent, the birds were equally loud, but they paled to the humans which made them easy targets.

The idea that she could be dead almost made him abandon his post but he exercised his will and found that he was in control. He was hunting, his supplies were getting low, plus when she did wake she would need the sustenance. So he sat motionless waiting patiently.

Night was falling fast as the days were shorter. There was more movement from the animals as the moon came out and the sun was setting. It wouldn't be long now. Even breaths filled the time until the young doe wandered into the clearing below. The single shot to the heart and lungs felled her and he shouldered his rifle climbing down in the dying light of the day.

Looking up through the trees he smiled at the thought of the start scraping the night sky, watching the queen for a moment on her throne, _Cassiopeia._ He shouldered the hundred and fifty pound animal and began his trek back to the farm house. After a mile and a half he set down the animal to field dress it. He worked quickly and efficiently and was on the move after ten minutes. The scavengers would make quick work of his offering.

Pushing it, he made it back to the house an hour and a half later. Before going in he tied up the deer in the barn. He would properly butcher it in the morning. His eyes lingered where he stashed the M16, would he give it back if she woke up? She had to wake up first, didn't she? With a sigh he ran a hand through his hair. The pressing matter of the rest of his chores was calling him.

Grateful for the moonlight he collected four buckets worth of packed snow to melt for bath water, no sense in using well water when he had the snow at his disposal.

Inside he deposited the rifle in the gun case and removed his cold weather gear. He washed up at the kitchen sink and grabbed a roll he had made. Eating it on his way up the stairs he reasoned that he would look in to make sure she hadn't died. He waited a moment outside the door. Then walked in, the room felt cold, but she was breathing. He lit the kerosene lamp next to the bed.

 _Hey,_ the bear, she was right the thing had a mind of its own.

 _Bite me, weirdo. Are you planning on killing her yourself?_

Looking at her saline drip he realized his error, the drip must have run out recently but blood was starting to back up into the line. Carefully he unhooked her and flushed the line, priming the next bag and setting the drip to a slower rate. Her pulse was low but that was to be expected. He brushed her hair away from her forehead, before touching his lips lightly to the same area.

Pulling the blankets carefully away from her knee he cut away the bandages and examined the stitches. The skin was growing back together, there was bruising but there was nothing to be done about that. Using some of the antibacterial hand sanitizer his mother was known to collect he cleaned his hands and cleaned around the area. He swabbed iodine around the stitches and applied new bandages.

Afterward he returned to the kitchen to heat the water for his bath which he usually took right in the kitchen to save time going up to the tub, being alone in the house after…after Val died of the plague he didn't have to worry about anyone seeing. It made more sense. When he was dressed he trimmed his nails down, not that they needed it. Part of having the twelve systems integrated in his body meant never having to worry about any physical deformities, the systems saw to that. If he nicked himself shaving there would be no proof because the arrays constantly regenerated his cells.

Finishing and cleaning up after himself, he went upstairs checked on her one more time and then went to bed.

This was the way the rest of the week went, he stayed closer after that first day, after that vivid dream. It was only to be sure she would wake up. As each day passed he could detect improvements. She should have had a blood transfusion but seeing as he was the only source of blood and his blood type was B+ there was too much risk for her body to reject it seeing as he had no idea of her blood type.

During his sojourns into her camp he had read through her journals but she had not disclosed her blood status, no need, so he had to use the saline solution. He looked over her driver's license learning more about her. He went out and did his job and returned, cleaned up, and would sit with her, reading over her journal.

On the sixth evening he laughed when he re-read about how she would kill someone for a cheeseburger. From what he had seen of her, he knew she would do it. But it sparked an idea. His host's grandmother had always touted how she had won her husband's heart with her meatloaf. For a moment he was lost in thought and the smells of his mother's kitchen. Why? Why was it so hard to integrate a well-adjusted, healthy human psyche? Perhaps his maw-maw's meatloaf was to blame.

After checking her pulse, wrappings, and drip he went downstairs and prepared to head out. The day after hunting the deer and returning he decided that he would stick to going out at night. The systems whispered, _almost there._ He wanted to be sure she wouldn't need anything. It was strange, he had done all the same things for Val, his heart tightened she would have been thirteen next spring. She was his mother's light, they did everything together, her little helper. Had it really only been 2 months without her?

Pushing the thoughts from his mind he shouldered the rifle and went out into the night.

The systems were correct, they always are. He was outside cutting a slab of meat off the deer. _It's time._ The door slammed as he entered the kitchen. He set the meat aside and washed his hands. Looking up he took a deep breath and made his way up the stairs making no effort to conceal his steps. Pausing for a second outside the door.

She was definitely awake, her position had shifted and the arrays detected her vital signs as elevated. He walked to the saline drip, she hadn't pulled anything out, that was good. He turned around and crossed the room to sit in the rocking chair, wondering how long before she would say something. Watching as she made her own observations.

"I know you're awake."

He waited. Her breathing changed, but she didn't say anything.

"And I know you're watching me, Cassie."

A/N: Obviously the next few parts are already written from Cassie's POV. Oh and if you have any interest at all check out  /J392tBAm-xI


	5. Chapter 5

In retrospect the first conversation didn't go quite as he thought it would. There was more nervousness on his part than he had anticipated. It ended with him holding her while she cried, the hopeless cry of anger at the things you have no control over.

Things such as being an alien consciousness downloaded to a human psyche.

Evan couldn't think about that now. He stood, at the moment, watching her sleep, she had cried herself out in his arms while he held her. The cool wet touch of her tears on his thumbs as he wiped them away, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

He had come to this planet he had blown her world apart, it was his fault at some micro level that her brother was in Wright Patterson and what would be happening to him was happening, it was causing a war in his heart. These were things outside of his control. A small lump of guilt settled in his gut.

She had been in his arms, heart breaking, because he had ripped her world apart. It was wrong. He shouldn't take so much pleasure in the physicality, he should have told her who and what exactly he was the second she opened her eyes. Now every second that ticked on made it that much harder to face that truth.

He should have, and he didn't. Looking at her chest rising and falling, nose slightly stuffy from crying and the eyes becoming puffy, he resolved that he would come clean about it...somehow.

In the dark her pull was more intense.

 _No Cassie. No, no, no._

Lips at her ear, the heat radiating from her body, the longing to enter and hold her at the core of her being. He resisted, with hands on her face, he was able to resist. Doing that would not be in his best interests. Yet, the need to want to take away her pain was greater than he imagined it would be. To share her burden would have been kindness a small recompense for having caused so much damage.

He was aware of her vitals, the way she had nuzzled at his breath made him think of something, he left her sleeping. Downstairs in the kitchen he opened the cupboard and plastic bag rustled at his touch. They had been Val's favorite, the Hershey's kisses. The twelve systems that made up his physical being alerted him to her needs before she even knew what they might be.

Adjusting the blanket over her body, he brushed her hair from her forehead gently fingering a strand in his hand. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he set the foil wrapped chocolate on the bedside table and walked away.

…

Out in the cold night air his mind is more clear without her overpowering his senses. He makes his way back to the highway and continues his work. The work of a grim reaper, grim silencer, silencing the human noise. He does what he has the heart to do. The thing that Cassie did. Now he does it for her. If he doesn't _he_ will come. If that were to happen she wouldn't be safe.

Two nights later after watching her sleep and reading through the journal he comes across the passage where she discusses her plans to kill the first human she finds eating a cheeseburger. It was one of the many things that drew him in about her, her sweet simplicity at the good things lost. Yet, this was one small thing that didn't have to be lost.

A few minutes later he was in the kitchen pulling out his mother's old hand crank meat grinder...

"Mom, you do know they make fancy attachments that can hook up to your cake stand mixer?" He watched as she cranked the wheel and he held the casing steady as the meat mixture went in.

"You're right Evan but then I would be here doing this work by myself instead of hanging out with you." She smiled as she wiped her arm across her forehead and shook out the sore muscles. "I'd rather spend the time with you. Or would you rather be at Lauren's?"

Evan felt a flush creeping up his neck, "It's not like that mom."

She smiled at him and added more meat to the top of the grinder. "I'm sorry, it wasn't kind to tease. I do appreciate your help. It's important to know these things, this is your great grandmother Agnes' recipe and your father's favorite."...

After her death, the death of his father, and the subsequent deaths of everyone he had ever known he was grateful for the knowledge passed onto him by his family, it made keeping himself alive and comfortable that much easier providing structure to days that stretched out like an infinite sea.

How many times had he watched her kneading dough and making buns, or canning, or making the sausages the provisions they ate throughout the year. His family wasn't poor and they could afford these things at the local grocery store in town but because his mother stayed at home and was part of the historical society and had an award winning garden she took pride in saving the family money by her craft.

Evan threw a few more pieces of firewood into the stove. The kitchen door slammed as he went out to the barn to retrieve a pound or so of the deer meat. The meat would have to thaw before he could process it. That gave him plenty of time to mix up the dough for the soft rolls. Checking the stove and adjusting the small logs and embers so the temperature would be adequate for the bread.

Opening a door off the hall he went down to the basement and selected a few potatoes, back in the kitchen he scrubbed them clean with some of the snow that was still accumulated on the porch. No sense in wasting water.

Checking on the dough he punched out the air and quickly divided it up into about twelve rolls. He never made large batches after most of his siblings had died he couldn't go through it fast enough for it not to go bad on him. Finally they were in the oven.

He got to work on the meat now that it was finally thawed through. Cooking had always been something he enjoyed, perhaps if the mechanical engineering hadn't worked out….what was he thinking? The end was something he knew was coming all along, wishes like he was thinking were human notions. Instead he focused on cracking the peppercorns into the bowl with the meat, seasoning with salt and dried onion and garlic as well as thyme and a pinch of paprika.

Everything went into the meat grinder and in a few minutes he had ground meat. Smelling the mixture he added a few more spices and wrapped everything up put it in his grandmother's stoneware crock inside the deck box, overkill for sure, but it kept his food safe from scavengers.

The warm smell of the bread was filling the air. He knew from past experience that he had a few more minutes. Working quickly he cleaned the meat grinder washed up the few dishes and set everything to dry. The golden smell of the baking wheat rolls intensified as he opened the oven door to pull them out, the scent filled the kitchen.

Again he set out to do the task at hand, restless for the night to be over. He was unsure how his gesture would be received but it was the first time he felt that nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach since before the awakening, the first time Lauren and he kissed. This felt more intense more intimate...perhaps because he knew her in some ways better than he had known Lauren. Reading her private thoughts, memories of her body, the dream came over him like a crashing wave, he did his best to put it from his mind, it felt like a violation of her more than anything else.

Looking through the scope made all the erroneous thoughts dissipate. A hundred and fifty yards away his intended target crumpled to the ground. A silver chain connected and another circle completed. He headed back to the farmhouse.

When he woke up he felt the small sense of deja vu like the anticipation of waking up for Christmas long ago. _Quit being ridiculous._ He chided himself as we went to retrieve the ground meat. More wood was fed into the stove and the cast iron skillet was set to heat. He shaped the meat into patties large enough for the rolls. The potatoes were also sliced into steak fries set aside next to the stove.

When he was ready he lopped a small bit of lard into the skillet and waited for it to melt into it's clear liquid form before adding the patty to be rewarded by the angry hiss of the meat in the hot fat. The potatoes went in too, no sense in having cold food. He flipped the burger at the appropriate moment and shook the pan and the potatoes for a moment to get the even browning for the meat. He sliced two rolls and proceeded to eat the first patty, he adjusted some seasoning scooped out the potatoes onto a baking sheet and slid them into the oven to finish by roasting them. In went the second burger patty and he watched it in much the same way he stalked his prey.

When he deemed it ready it was fished out and onto its respective bun and out came the potatoes and he put a generous portion on her plate. He popped a few steak fries into his mouth, the outsides were crispy and the inside soft and steaming hot, he sprinkled them with salt and took the plate upstairs.

Evan could tell the moment she saw it that he had got it right, it would have been wonderful to have a slice of cheese perfectly melted over the burger but that wasn't possible it didn't matter, the way she voraciously dug in was all he cared about.

" _Where'd you get the bread?"_ He didn't miss the grease rolling down her chin and lost his train of thought for a moment but replied simply with the truth, " _I baked it."_


	6. Chapter 6

Fuck!

Everything, gone to hell in a hand basket! This would not end well.

"What is it?" She whispered.

There it was again.

"A damned flashlight." He murmured."What's closer Cassie, the woods or the ravine?"

She stared at him, it was shock.

"Cassie," his whisper cutting through to her at last. Face questioning, waiting.

"The ravine,...I think." She responded. He grabbed her by the hand running off in the direction she indicated the ravine to be. Helping her down once they reached it.

Everything he had worked for was going to be undone. The fifth wave had rolled out and they were crashing headlong into it.

"Evan?" She whispered, but he pressed his finger to his lips, shaking his head.

Four targets, range: closing in, conditions: not ideal. Possibility for collateral damage: high. He was going to blow any shred of trust they had built. _Damnit!_ He had no choice, the soldiers needed to die, or they would. "They're coming this way. Stay down."

The first shot shattered the silence. The intended target went down. And as prey do when being hunted they scattered.

The flare dropped into the ravine burning the dark in a furious red blaze.

Grabbing Cassie bodily he heaved her up the other side of the ravine. Shouting for her to run. With his back turned he missed the small object that landed in the ravine.

With his attention focused on her, he missed the subtle cues. Cassie only had time to scream, "Grenade!" There was no time to take cover. The arrays protected his hearing and shut down the nerves, he registered the bright explosion of light. The shrapnel biting and tearing at his flesh.

A full second passed and then there was the sharp rapid fire burst of the M16 peppering the air above his head. Staccato bursts that punctuated the darkness with bright flashes.

Taking advantage of the gunfire cover he hoisted himself up over the would not be a match for his enhanced systems. All the gunfire did was give away their positions. Taking a wide arc he flanked them on the left.

There was a sharp crack from the rifle, and the first target went down. He reloaded.

The shots had redirected to his previous location. Quickly reloading he moved with inhuman speed yards away as the shots from the assault rifles peppered the ground where he previously stood. With a deep breath he exhaled, connecting.

 _Crack!_ Another body crumpled.

More gunfire, biting at the woods. The sound ricocheting. Bark splintering and spraying the air. The burst of another grenade in the complete wrong direction and silence. He reloaded as he changed positions.

The rifle ripped the silence again. In the distance a scream. Then silence.

There was no time to reload the gun when the fourth one came upon him suddenly. What exactly his assailant had in mind by drawing a knife, he couldn't have ventured to guess, but it didn't end well for the child soldier. The arterial spray mixed with the sweat and grime coating him in a hot sticky mess, steaming in the cold air.

At last the ringing stopped and the after a minute the normal sound of the woods returned.

He breathed evenly as he scanned his surroundings, he was sure she had run off after he had left the ravine. He crossed the clearing back to where he took the grenade, carefully sliding down and then finding a more gentle slope to get out on the other side.

Working his way back to where he'd tossed her out. Evan picked up the trail easily. Broken twigs, scattered underbrush, even a tree showed signs of damage where it looked as if she'd run head long into it. He walked slower but it was as if gravity itself was drawing him to her.

She wasn't an idiot, he smiled despite the severity of the situation. She had found the Luger, he let her draw the wrong conclusions. If she really thought about it, this was the only outcome...but she didn't want to believe. Maybe he didn't want her to believe. He moved slowly, silently prowling the woods, making his way back to his mayfly.

Finding her gun hadn't stopped her from letting him into her bed each night after plate incident. _Why?_ Why did he have any reaction to her at all? Lauren would have never done something so idiotic. He bristled at the thought of her throwing her dinner and her plate at his head. And yet, as Cassie felt sorry for herself and in the self pity lashed out at him, he took it. It was a pittance to pay. A meager penance for what he had done. And it had ignited him.

The arrays brought forth the enhanced memory, her heart rate elevated, pupils dilated, lips swollen...she was fighting her physical reaction to him. Her body craved him even if her heart had yet to accept the thought.

" _You're not the only one." The words had been ground out through gritted teeth. "You're not the only who's lost everything-not the only one who thinks they've found the one thing that makes any of this shit make sense."_

Had this been said to Lauren the outcome would have been different, per story book or romantic sitcom. But with Cassiopeia, her eyes had narrowed and she withdrew however imperceptibly but the rejection was there and he couldn't understand it.

 _a/n: I've decided to go ahead and post this even though it's small and probably needs more revision work. I'm so sorry for all of you who are following this, the inspiration comes and goes. So my plan is to write this guerrilla style much like the direction of NaNoWriMo (for those of you who are familiar, if not the idea is you just write, no revision, nothing getting the thoughts out as quickly as possible) So this might become a whole bunch of snippets...that I'll combine. Thoughts? Good idea, bad idea? I have no idea? Thanks for your continued support._


	7. Chapter 7

_Please excuse this unbeta'd mess. In an effort to clear off some of the works in progress I have, I went back to what I had originally started on this chapter, and with some mixed feelings about where I thought I wanted to go with it. *Spoiler* warning for events through The Last Star._

The arrays sustain his life, he is enhanced.

The problem? So is she.

 _How sweet the sound._

Blowing up Camp Haven hadn't achieved the desired effect. Vosch was very much alive. The systems kicked to life stabilizing his physical response to the stress that was _her_ , she was alive. His heart couldn't race, his lips didn't actually tingle, outwardly he gave no visible sign. And yet, somewhere in these seven billion billion molecules that made up the consciousness that was Evan Walker, all of this was real. His body hummed, _she'_ s alive.

With every breath she took, the idea of a world without her could not come to pass. He would not stand for it. He would not allow it.

 _I will find you._

The silencer needs to find her, before everlasting _grace_ does.

It couldn't be much longer, every system was screaming failure. The gift has always been self serving, and nothing will stop him. In hindsight his grave mistake would. The gun was there, it was loaded, he didn't finish the job properly.

How hard was it? A bullet in the head- two. He corrected, one for the kill, and one for insurance. One could argue that the loss of blood, the jarring impact of the landing from his escape coupled with the knowledge of having failed to kill Vosch- had clouded his judgement. Maybe none of that, his only driving force being the gravity that had shifted his universe and had caused him to overlook those shots. Because the only thing that drove him was the idea, _find Cassie._

And find her because the _other_ is coming.

…

They are holed up in a run down Holiday Inn. He knows this because his senses know this. There are others with her, and that one boy- Ben Parish, of all the humans that could survive the apocalypse that his kind had delivered, it would that one?!

He'd watched the building, First the distrustful one left, followed by the small girl, and no-one- they hadn't noticed. This of course made things easier and more complicated. When Cassie figured it out, would she come out to look? Should he wait for her?

The ones that were left were the the shot-up old crush, the silent one, the one with the large ears, the brother, and the mayfly. Out of those, he only trusted her. But- did she, could she trust him?

She walked to him across the old flooring, in nearly the same room where he's failed to destroy grace. Grace was strange that way. Giving where it should have taking, and taking the only things that mattered- the only thing. Grace- salvation- sacrifice- redemption-

A boy crumpled in his arms. Another was knocked out too. A muzzle was pointed at him, systems had crashed…

 _He_ wouldn't stop, not until he was captured, or destroyed. That's why they'd sent _her_ for him. After they'd convinced the ringer, after the ringer had no one left to fight for. But the mayfly had come, and they couldn't take that from him.

...

A bright flash of green startles the shell they call Evan Walker into a conscious state.

It turns out they could. It turns out they did. They erased him- and the mayfly erased herself.

Tired eyes search the sky, it's early. The position is wrong. He has miles to go before he can pay his respects again.

He no longer dreams, he no longer cares, he no longer has anything to live for- except, his body is sustained, and he- he's still not ready to let go of her. His features are hardened by living out in the wild, by feeling more than any _human_ should feel. But, Evan Walker, persists. Haunted by the namesake of his fore-bearers, _walker,_ he walks the earth now.

The journals weigh him down, he will never leave them. They carry the consciousness of the only thing he loved. At times those words cut deep, a throbbing ache that will not leave, she is with him as he walks her planet, silencing those who will not see reason.

He goes until he can go no longer, days and nights, because when he is conscious- he can shut the world out. Survive and exterminate. That is his only task.

He stops when she enters the night sky, he watches as she moves across and slowly disappears over the horizon. Time has stretched, the only exception is when she is present, and only then does time speed up.

It's been months since he left. Left her only known family. Left those who had been with her in her last moments on Earth. Left- her namesake. The child who is the quarter turn to the knife embedded deep in his being. Their knowing eyes that look upon his shell with pity, sincere in their shared pain, because he is not the only one she left behind.

The world was dying.

Instead of facing that fact head on, a select few in the world committed genocide though the most blatant of lies. Aliens exist, they've come to destroy us- no. No, only humans could be capable of the actions they put into place, a systematic, world ending, fuck you reset of the goddamned planet. Leaving only survivors, and children. Children, for fucks sake. And one lone girl on the cusp of womanhood who stood by defiantly and didn't let it happen.

Every closing of a silver loop is done in her name. He is alone. She left without him, because they hacked him, erased him, and set him to murder her. She killed him first.

He is enhanced.

He did not stay dead for long. As it turns out, humans lack that ability to take a final shot- two really, when the heart is involved and it has to be done face to face.

Ringer- no, Marika, tried to comfort him, telling him that he had been with her, when she met her end. His hacked consciousness, along with every single human consciousness- Cassie had taken them all. But left no drop for him.

The day is long, he accomplishes much- doesn't stay for long. He wanders, not exactly aimlessly, the thing that guides him is her. Cassie. Not for Cassandra, or Cassidy. No, Cassie, for Cassiopeia.

He silences everything that keeps him from following her across the night sky. He is no longer other or silencer. He remains enhanced, but not human. He has become a walker. The shell that is Evan Walker will continue to walk and silence the lies, until he can go no longer. He both fears and welcomes that time, because that is the only time he sees her. They are only memories, random bits of data that have been re-downloaded and stored, and apart from the journals they are all he has left of her here in this wasteland of a battlefield.

 _A/N: A special thank you to "Clumsy Pixie" nothing warms my heart more than reading "I don't normally review". I appreciate everyone's reviews and those of you who have PM capabilities I thank you in person. I watch to see who follows, and favorites the stories, it really does mean a lot to anyone who writes. So thank you. I believe I have reached the conclusion of the jumbled idea I had. I appreciate all of you who have been reading. And I will post a bonus chapter sometime in the future._


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